


A Wrinkle In Mind

by grettama, LanMao



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 13:28:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13191093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grettama/pseuds/grettama, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LanMao/pseuds/LanMao
Summary: Bucky asked to be put back into the cryopod until they find a way to fix his mind. The solution to that is pretty simple; Charles Xavier.





	A Wrinkle In Mind

**Author's Note:**

> It started out as a random conversation between me and LanMao, but then we actually have to write it down.
> 
> It can be seen as something that happened before the Infinity War event.  
> I also put some correlation from this work to my previous works in Bahasa Indonesia ([Auschwitz](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1756323) and [JFK](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1754237)) but it can be read separately as I only mentioned it briefly.
> 
> And also, we're imagining Cherik in here with James McAvoy and Michael Fassbender. Sue us orz
> 
> Forgive me also for the title. It's definitely a twist from A Wrinkle In Time.  
> I'm lack of creativity.
> 
> Warning: unbetaed.

It had been three weeks. And up until now, nobody had found a way to _fix_ —oh, how Steve hated that word, but it was true. Bucky was broken, he needed to be fixed, and they hadn’t found any ways to do that.

Steve tried to look for a way, to keep searching, but it had been three weeks and he still had _nothing_. Bucky was still there, inside the cryopod, looked like he was in peace but it hurt Steve every time he saw him. Steve always thought that he could do _more_ , especially with all the resources he had. He had T’Challa—the King of Wakanda himself—backed him up with their best scientists. He even had Natasha and Clint out there, currently digging down the remnants of HYDRA’s bases they could find to search anything related to Winter Soldier project.

So far, what they had find only the keyword _‘sputnik’_ to disable Winter Soldier, or in other words; turned him off by putting him down in a deep slumber. But Steve didn’t want to put Bucky to _sleep_ (because God knows whether he would wake up from that or not), he wanted Bucky to be _free_. Was that too much to ask?

The vibration of his phone snapped Steve out from his trance. He rubbed his face in frustration before he reached for his pocket to fish out his phone. When Steve opened it, it was a text from an unknown number.

_1407 Graymalkin Lane, Salem Center._  
Westchester County, New York.  
Look for Charles Xavier.  
-N

That was it, and Steve stood up from his seat so fast. _Charles Xavier_. Maybe he was the answer.

* * *

Steve flew to New York alone the next day. He needed to make sure that whoever this Charles Xavier was; he would really capable of helping Bucky. Steve didn’t feel the need to wake Bucky up from his cryopod just for an unclear fix.

As he landed in The Big Apple he kind of thought that the address would be hard to find. But apparently he was wrong, since it was the biggest building around the Westchester County, it seemed. It wasn’t the skyscraper’s kind of building, but when his cab stopped at the front gate with ‘Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters’ written on it, he found himself standing at a very big mansion—he even may said it as _castle_ as well. Steve wasn’t sure he got the right address then. Why Natasha sent him to a school? Bucky wasn’t a _youngster_. But he pushed that doubt behind and walked in.

The front yard of the school was empty and Steve stayed alert, just in case there was a trap somewhere. When he finally reached the front door—it was a big wooden door that looked so authentic—and about to knock, to his surprise, the door swung open first. And in front of him, stood a very large _man_ —to be honest, Steve wasn’t sure whether he could call it _a man_ , since it was covered in blue fur and looked more like a _beast_. But he was wearing a glasses and a lab coat and before Steve could say anything, the blue furry man smiled at him. Surprisingly, the smile was nice instead of scary and Steve found himself smiling back.

“Steve Rogers,” the blue man said. “I’m Hank McCoy.” He offered his large hand for Steve to shake and Steve accepted it. Despite his scary look, the blue man—Hank McCoy—seemed so friendly. “Professor Xavier has been waiting for you. Come in.”

“He has?” Steve asked, after he blinked in surprise, but followed McCoy in. “He knew that I’m coming?”

McCoy gave him a chuckle. “Let him explain that to you himself,” he said, and then led Steve further in. They only stopped when they reach another big wooden door. Steve had to admit that the interior of this building was awesome. He really felt like he was inside a castle.

McCoy opened that door and let Steve in, gave him a nod then left, closed the door behind him. Steve smiled at him before he closed the door, and then turned forward to finally meet _Professor Charles Xavier_ , but the room was empty.

“No need to call me Professor. Charles is fine.”

Steve turned his head towards the voice. A man in a wheelchair just came out from behind the huge bookshelf there, and approached Steve. He had the most striking blue eyes Steve had ever seen, and also a very friendly smile. Steve immediately trusted the man. He didn’t know how, it was just the man gave him a very secure feelings.

The man—Charles Xavier—stopped in front of him and offered his hand, which Steve accepted gladly before he gestured Steve to sit down on the couch. “Please have a sit. Would you like to drink something, Mr. Rogers? Tea? Coffee?”

Steve sat down but shook his head. “Thank you for offering. I’m good, Professor.”

The Professor chuckled. “I said no need to call me Professor, but if that makes you more comfortable, then please do,” he said. “But for me, it’s kind of strange to have Captain America himself calling me that.”

Steve found himself chuckled as well. “Someone gave me your address. And I came here to ask for your help.” The Prof—Charles’—expression turned serious as he listened to Steve closely. Steve waited for Charles to say something, but he didn’t. And Steve felt a gentle nudge in his mind that urge him to continue, so he did. “My friend is having… a trouble,” he said, wasn’t sure how far he could expose Bucky no matter how trusty Charles seemed. “He just—he just got back from a war, and he was having some condition and someone said that maybe you can… help?” Steve ended his vague explanation, looking at Charles with a hopeful expression.

When Charles opened his mouth to speak, Steve kind of expecting him to give him rejection, to ask him to go home because he couldn’t risk helping Captain America who was now fugitive in _America_ and the rest of the world. But instead, he said, “That someone probably right.” And Steve tensed on his seat, slightly, waiting for Charles to continue. “I’m a telepath, and I do have my way around people’s mind. Maybe I can help your friend.”

_He was a telepath_ , Steve repeated in his mind. _Of course he was_. If there was someone who could delete Bucky’s program from his mind, it had to be a telepath. “Will you help him then?” Steve asked. “I will do anything to—“

“Don’t worry,” Charles cut him off. His warm smile was back on his face. “You don’t need to do anything for me in return. To be honest, helping you is my way to repay you.”

Steve blinked owlishly. “I’m sorry?”

Charles chuckled softly. “Remember your mission back then in Auschwitz? Around 1945? You and your team raided the concentration camp and released some kids from Hydra’s base that time. But there was this boy who insisted that he needed to go and find Klaus Schmidt…”

Steve’s eyes widened. “I remember that mission. Are you the boy? But wait, no, if I remembered it correctly, the boy name was—”

“Erik, yes,” Charles finished his sentence for him. “He’s an old friend of mine. So, you had helped my friend, and I will help yours in return. You can bring your friend here anytime. I’ll also make sure that your stay in here won’t be disturbed.”

Steve beamed. “You will? Oh my God, thank you very much, Professor. I will bring Bucky here next week if that’s okay with you,” he said, and Charles nodded, gave him the confirmation. Steve wanted to ask him more about Erik, but something in his tone earlier when he mentioned Erik’s name sounded so… personal and made Steve prevented himself from asking. Instead, he just said, “Thank you again, Professor.”

* * *

Bucky was confused when he was being woken up from his cryopod, but Steve was there as he opened his eyes. His first question after he was sober enough was, “You found a way to fix me.” And Steve had to chuckle because that wasn’t even a question. That was a statement that showed how much Bucky believed that he would find a way. Gladly, Steve could give him a nod as a confirmation instead of disappointing him.

“His name is Charles Xavier,” Steve explained on the plane to New York. T’Challa was kind enough to give them a ride back to The Big Apple. “He’s a telepath and he said that he probably can erase the Winter Soldier program from your brain. But he wasn’t sure how long it will take so we probably gonna stay there for a while.”

“And he’s safe? You trust him? He can handle… he can handle me?”

It was truly painful to see Bucky seeing himself as a broken man. Steve wanted to argue about that, but he knew arguing wouldn’t help Bucky for now. So he just nodded. “I met him last week. He’s a pretty strong telepath, you know. He explained to me what he can do. He basically can control every single person in the world just by sitting there in his office. I know that sounds dangerous, but I’ve met him, and I trust him. If there’s someone who can erase that Winter Soldier program from your brain completely, Charles Xavier is our guy.”

Bucky had been staring at the pad Steve handed to him earlier, reading about Charles Xavier and now looking at his latest photograph, but didn’t say anything.

Steve smiled fondly at Bucky. “He’s British and he talks just like Peggy. You’re gonna like him.”

That managed to bring a grin on Bucky’s face. “I think so too.”

* * *

Bucky knew he was being taken to a special school, but the amount of the kids running around kind of concerned Bucky. There were too many children here. What if he hurt one during his stay? No matter how strong they looked —Bucky did see one of the kids burned a tree with his eyes earlier—they were still children.

Bucky felt a bit better once he and Steve were inside Xavier’s office. The man greeted them when they were in, and gave Bucky a warm smile. “You don’t need to worry about the kids,” he said, as if he was reading Bucky’s mind—well, he probably did. “I can stop you before you try something.”

“Can you show me how?” Bucky asked, and Xavier raised an eyebrow at him. Xavier didn’t need to ask what Bucky meant by that. Bucky was pretty sure he already knew what he meant, he thought about it anyway, though Xavier still looked unsure. And Bucky just kept staring at him until Xavier understood that he really needed to know that Xavier could stop him when it was needed. Only by that he would be sure.

“Very well then, Mr. Barnes,” Xavier said. And right after he said that, Bucky felt it. A presence at the back of his mind. The presence wasn’t big but it was _heavy_ , Bucky didn’t know how to really describe it, but when Bucky tried to do _anything_ , either speaking or moving a single finger, he just _couldn’t_. He knew at that moment that Xavier could make him stop breathing and he couldn’t do anything about it as well. Bucky knew he should be worried, but he didn’t. It was just a proof that Xavier was just _that strong_ , and Bucky approved of his power. Xavier could contain him when it was needed.

Once Bucky thought that, the presence at the back of his mind disappeared, but not before gave him a gentle and warm brush. “Thank you,” Bucky said, and Xavier smiled at him.

“Let me take you to your room, and I’ll introduce you to our staff as well.”

* * *

Steve only stayed in Xavier School for the first week. And then he got to go back to Wakanda.

“You sure you’ll be fine?” Steve asked right before he went.

Bucky rolled his eyes at him. “Charles is here,” he said, and Steve still wore that amused look because Bucky was fast enough to warm up and was now on the first name basis with the telepath, “so I’ll be fine.”

At least that assured Steve. He gave Bucky a hug before he left, and Bucky went back inside for another therapy with Charles.

So far, Bucky had been having two sessions with Charles. Bucky wanted to call them therapy session, but Charles wasn’t really fond of that term. He still called it that in his head though, and loved seeing Charles disapproval expression whenever he thought of that. The first session was just talk. Charles didn’t do anything to infiltrate his mind. That was when Bucky found out Charles was PhD in psychology. Bucky had therapist before, but nothing quite like Charles. He didn’t even ask about his past. He was just asking about simple things; his favorite food, what he loved to do in his free time, and things like that. He just made a conversation with Bucky. He also talked about himself, his students, his plan for the school, and Bucky had never been so comfortable with someone beside Steve before, but Charles made it so easy.

The next session was the time when Charles infiltrated his mind. At first, Bucky thought it would hurt. When Charles asked him to relax and closed his eyes, Bucky already prepared himself to embrace the pain. But instead, he felt a warm presence, similar to the one he felt the first time when Charles freeze him. Though this time, it wasn’t heavy. It was just like a warm liquid that filled his head. It didn’t hurt at all.

Bucky didn’t know how long he stayed like that, but then the presence disappeared and he knew he could open his eyes again.

“The program is quite complicated and had been ingrained deep in your mind,” Charles said.

“But you can erase it?”

“I can,” Charles answered, to Bucky’s relief. “But it needs time. I have to do it step by step to make sure everything’s gone. The problem is, I don’t know how long. Probably a month, or two. I’m still not sure.”

“No problem,” Bucky said. “I can be patient. As long as the program is gone.”

And that was how Bucky prolonged his stay in Xavier school, and now gladly attended his third session. It wasn’t that much different with the second one, Bucky just laid there while Charles did his thing. The other thing that made Bucky trusted Charles even more was that he never had any nightmares at all during his stay in Xavier School. And that only meant his therapy worked, right?

“You still have nightmares, actually,” he heard Charles said, and Bucky frowned, but kept his eyes closed because he knew Charles wasn’t done. “Sorry, but I’m in your mind and it’s hard not to listen when I’m actually inside.”

Bucky shook his head. “I don’t mind,” he said, “I still have my nightmares you said?”

“Yes, you do,” Charles said again. “I just harness it every night so you can rest better. You’re not the only one who’s having trouble sleeping in this school. You know Jean Grey?”

Bucky didn’t know Jean Grey. Probably one of the students. He didn’t bother getting to know the students. His problem here was with Charles only, and sometimes Hank McCoy because he was the second in command in this school it seemed. But suddenly an image of a girl with red fiery hair appeared in his mind and he was sure it was Charles who sent the image to him. Well, he did see that girl in the school sometimes. Most of the times with Charles.

“She is also a telepath,” Charles explained. “Has telekinetic power as well, but it’s her telepathy which bothers her the most at night. So, I’m not a stranger to nightmares.”

Bucky was sure he also heard, _I also have them_ , in his mind, but decided didn’t press Charles further about it. Maybe he just slipped since their mind kind of entangled right now.

“That’s enough for today,” Charles said again a while later, as Bucky felt the warm presence gone from his mind. Bucky opened his eyes and Charles handed him a cup of coffee which Bucky received gratefully. “Hank said that he wants to see you in his lab after this. Something about your prosthetic arm.”

“My prosthetic arm?” he repeated and Charles nodded.

“Mr. Rogers sent your new prosthetic arm here,” Charles said, gestured to Bucky’s non-existence left arm. “He said that it’s finished and ready to be used. Hank will help on putting it on you.”

Bucky wasn’t sure he wanted that. At least without his prosthetic arm, he was less dangerous. He still could throw pocket knife out of reflex if someone startled him, but at least his punch wasn’t as painful—

“You’ll need it,” Charles said again, cut off Bucky’s train of thought. “I suggest you take it. You won’t hurt anyone, James.”

And just as simple as that, Bucky nodded and left, heading to Hank’s lab with Charles’ guidance in his head.

* * *

The first time Charles slipped inside James’ head, the feeling was so _familiar_ it almost painful. Because James’ mind was so full of rage, sadness, and disappointment, but it also so passionate and beautiful, and it reminded him of _one_ particular mind. And the more Chares familiarized himself with James’ mind, the more he thought that they had so many resemblances. The only different was that probably James’ mind had more fear; fear of himself, fear of hurting others. And that was the things Charles used as an anchor whenever he slipped inside to erase the Winter Soldier program.

And about that program itself, Charles never encountered a brainwash program as detailed as that. It was very thorough with a lot of complication. No wonder James’ didn’t remember a thing whenever he was in Winter Soldier mode. There were too many layers. Though, it was still a non-telepath job so it wasn’t that clean, and Charles still found a way to erase it one by one.

James had been here for almost a month now, and Charles predicted that he would probably done after three or four more sessions. And then James would be free, wouldn’t be afraid of himself anymore, wouldn’t need to worry of hurting others. That thought made him smile, but then his smile disappeared as soon as he felt another presence in his study, made him looked up from his paperwork.

Well, it wasn’t that he actually felt it like what he did to everyone else in the building, where he could feel their mind. But this particular presence was _empty_. And he knew why.

The helmet.

“Erik,” he said, turned around to face Erik who was standing in the shadows. Erik stepped out—still wearing his ridiculous cape and of course the ridiculous helmet Charles hated so much. He flicked his wrist and Charles heard a ‘click’ sound as the door was being locked.

“What the hell are you thinking, Charles?” he said, or more like growling to be exact, as he stood in front of Charles. “He’s a terrorist! Dangerous!”

“Oh, is he?”  Charles didn’t even need Erik to take off his helmet to know that Erik was frustrated over his respond.

“Don’t give me that, Charles. You know very well I care about your safety. And I won’t let you be in the close proximity with _The Winter Soldier_.” Erik leaned down and put his hands on the side of Charles’ wheelchair so that they were eye to eye. “Do you forget that he’s the one who killed JFK?”

Of course Charles didn’t forget that. “Erik, _James_ is not the Winter Soldier,” he said instead, “He’s just James. I’m helping him to get rid of his brainwash program so he can get better.” And when Erik’s grip on Charles’ chair tightened before he gritted his teeth and let go, Charles continued, “And just for your information, he killed people not on his own accord. He was under control. Unlike some other terrorist I know.”

“For fuck sake, Charles,” Erik did sound desperate. “I just want you to be safe. What if he lose control and… and… hurt you?”

Charles scanned over Erik’s face, half covered by his helmet, but he could see a genuine worry in his cold eyes. “Don’t worry about it, Erik. I can always stop him. I’m not totally defenseless, you know?” And before Charles could stop himself, he added, “And I don’t think he can hurt me. Not as much as you did, anyway.”

Charles knew that he crossed the line with those words, but he kept his expression neutral while he could see hurt in Erik’s steely eyes.

Erik didn’t say anything at first, just staring at him, and when he opened his mouth, Charles thought he was going to argue more, but instead, he just said, “If you said so then,” with a cold tone. “Goodbye, old friend.”

And because Charles didn’t know what else to say, Charles looked back down on his paperwork. “Goodbye, Erik.”

* * *

Bucky rather liked the new arm. It didn’t take long for him to get used to it, but it was lighter than his previous one. And more importantly, there was no red star printed on it. It had gold accent instead, and more flexible as well. Hank had him tested it the other day, and he was pretty satisfied with it.

One thing Bucky was sure; he would never use this arm to hurt people again.

“It looks good on you,” Charles said when he entered his office that day, the first session after he installed his new arm.

Bucky gave him a chuckle, but didn’t say anything else. He just sat down, and closed his eyes; the usual routine. It wasn’t because he didn’t like to talk with Charles, don’t get him wrong, Bucky rather liked talking with the telepath—he did remind Bucky a little bit of Peggy, and Bucky blamed his accent for that—because talking with Charles was always comforting. But silence with Charles just as comforting. And for now, Bucky preferred Charles in his head.

And Charles did. But Bucky felt something was _off_ , made him frown a little. It wasn’t uncomfortable per se, but just _off_. Something that Bucky couldn’t point out. He kept his eyes closed though, tried to relax more and focused on Charles’ warm presence inside his mind.

But turned out it was a wrong move to do. Because once Bucky focused himself completely on Charles’ presence, he realized what was _off_ about it. Charles was tense, very tense, and the more Bucky focused on him, the more tensed Charles got. Instead of filling Bucky with calming thoughts, he started seeing _things_.

_“…peace was never an option…”_

_“…I’ve been at mercy of men just following orders. Never again…”_

_“YOU! You did this!”_

_“I SAID BACK OFF!”_

_“…us turning on each other, it’s what they want. I tried to warn you, Charles. I want you by my side. We’re brothers, you and I. All of together, protecting each other. We want the same thing…”_

Everything was a blur in Bucky’s mind. Flash of images, too fast and too slow at the same time. Of sitting in front of candles, warm and _serene_. Of being underwater, couldn’t breathe but determined. Then everything went even more blurry and what Bucky could feel was only _pain, paralyzed_. Bucky heard someone screaming. Or probably it was his scream, he couldn’t really tell.

And everything went dark.

The darkness didn’t last, but when he opened his eyes, it felt like looking through someone else’s life.

Bucky was no longer sitting down on the couch. He was crouching, over _Charles_. _Oh God, he had Charles pinned down under him_. With his knee pressed on chest while his arm—his right arm, not the metal one—gripped on Charles’ neck. He knew Charles couldn’t breathe. He knew he needed to stop. But _he couldn’t_. His body wasn’t under his control anymore. He knew that feeling.

Bucky tried to close his eyes, he didn’t want to see it. But then he felt a pull, and when Bucky opened his eyes again, he heard Steve’s voice.

“Bucky, calm down!”

He tried to use Steve’s voice as anchor. It didn’t work. It never worked.

“Hold him back!”

Another voice. Another arms trying to pull him away from Charles. It was blue.

“Get him the fuck outta here!”

They managed to pull him back from Charles. Charles was now just lying down, unmoving, and another man with metal claws pushed him back, away from Charles. _Please don’t die. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m so—_

“Bucky, please calm down!” Steve’s voice again. “Oh, for God sake. Sputnik!”

And this time, darkness engulfed him fully.

* * *

When Bucky was finally conscious again, he was seeing white. He was disoriented for a moment, until he heard a familiar voice.

“Oh, you’re awake. How are you feeling?”

And it was Charles’ voice.

Bucky froze, sat himself down—it looked like he was in some kind of infirmary facility—and scooted as far as possible from Charles.

“What are you doing here, Charles? You’re not supposed to be here. I—I almost killed you,” he said, looked around to check whether there was someone else in here beside them.

Surprisingly, Charles laughed. Though it didn’t last long because then he cringed and held his chest. “Well, you didn’t kill me. You broke my rib though, but it’s fine. Already being taken care of,” he explained, and how he could still sound so friendly after Bucky _broke his fucking rib_ was beyond his understanding.

“Don’t be overdramatic,” Charles’ said again. “I have a broke spinal cord. A broken rib is fine compare to that.”

That sentence reminded Bucky of the images he saw before he blacked out and attacked Charles earlier. “It was your memory,” he said. “The thing… the thing that I saw earlier in my mind… it was all yours.”

Charles smiled, albeit sadly, and nodded at Bucky. He didn’t deny it. Didn’t take his gaze off of Bucky as well. And Bucky asked, “What happened?”

Charles sighed before he answered. “The fault is totally from my part,” he said. “I was in no condition to perform our so called therapy on you, but I overestimated myself. I thought it would be fine. Turned out it didn’t,” he paused for a bit, looked like he was entangled with his own mind, before continuing, “You see, James. Working on your mind is just like trying to deactivate a bomb. It’s a delicate work. I have to do it slowly, step by step. But today, I didn’t follow through the steps. You can say that I _cut_ the wrong cable and it triggered you. And for that, I’m so sorry.”

Bucky was too shocked over Charles’ apology to respond properly, so he just stared at the Professor. It was unbelievable. Bucky was the one who hurt him, yet Charles still said sorry. He didn’t understand.

“I totally understand if you don’t want to continue this with me. I sold myself too high. I clearly can’t be expected to work with you when I have my own… darkness,” Charles said again.

But this time, Bucky managed to regain some controls of himself and shook his head. “No, I—“ he tried, but didn’t really know what to say. That he was sorry instead? That it was his fault instead of Charles? It wasn’t enough and he was pretty sure Charles already knew that, but chose to ignore it instead. So, in the end, he said, “It never happened to you before.” Charles was the most composed person he ever met. “You never lose control.” So what made it different this time?

Once again, Charles surprised Bucky by chuckled softly. “You seriously have such too high expectation on me, James. But,” Charles inhaled deeply, and Bucky realized that he looked tired, “I suppose you deserve to know the truth about what actually happened to me. You’ve seen the memories, and like you said, it’s all mine.”

And those memories were still there in Bucky’s mind, fresh.

“Erik, he’s—he’s the one you saw the most in my memories—he gave me a surprise visit last night. And it’s shaken me, I guess. I just didn’t realize it until it was too late.”

When Bucky didn’t respond, Charles continued, “You deserve to know that, just for us to be fair.”

Bucky still didn’t talk, just let the silence lingered. Bucky knew the best option from this was just to walk out, to stop this program with Charles. Not because he thought Charles would fail—like what he just implied, it was so wrong, by the way. Bucky knew very well Charles would be able to erase this Winter Soldier program, he could _feel_ it—but because Bucky didn’t want to hurt him again. When Charles was at his weakest state, he couldn’t even defend himself from Bucky.

It looked like Bucky had been silent for too long because Charles spoke up again, “Mr. Rogers is here. For visiting actually. But I already talked to get you back to Wa—“

“We better have someone supervise us—me especially,” Bucky cut Charles off, “for next time.”

Charles didn’t respond immediately, just tilted his head to the side a little, a habit that Bucky had learned these past few weeks. It meant that Charles was thinking, or even tried to get into someone’s head—in this case, his head—to make sure he didn’t read the situation wrong.

“For next time,” Charles finally repeated. “You want to continue this?”

“Of course I do,” Bucky answered, honestly and firmly. “The slip earlier was an honest mistake. You are actually the only one who can get this far with me. I feel… I feel  better.”

“But I—“

“You’ve been in my mind, Charles. You know all of my darkest secrets. Now I know a bit of yours. Big deal.”

And when those blue eyes brightened, Bucky felt like that finally, he did something right in his life.

**Author's Note:**

> When Bucky opened his eyes three weeks later—after their fifteenth session—and it's Charles' blue eyes that greeted him first with a warm smile, Bucky felt something had lifted from him.
> 
> True to his thought, Charles said, "We're done. The program is erased completely. You're okay now, James."
> 
> And if Bucky decided to get up and gave Charles a hug afterwards, Logan who was supervising them that time couldn't even stop him.


End file.
